


Witness Protection

by amandateaches



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dean acts like James Bond, Dean has to keep you alive, F/M, Fight Scenes, Minor Character Death, Protective Dean Winchester, Reader-Insert, Suspense, Thriller, Trauma, Witness Protection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 16:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17227247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandateaches/pseuds/amandateaches
Summary: When you witness a murder, protection comes from a very surprising place- your boyfriend, who’s really an undercover DEA agent. Can you put aside your problems with Dean’s lies long enough for him to keep you alive?





	Witness Protection

**Author's Note:**

> This is for two challenges. The first is Angelina’s Roll the Dice Challenge for @atc74, and my prompts were One of your main characters must be a coach of some kind, Must take place on a train, or a train must be one of your locations, and Someone has to have a flat tire. The second challenge was Rapunzel’s Tangled up with Supernatural Challenge for @eyes-of-a-disney-princess. My prompt there was “Did I ever tell you I have a thing for brunettes?”, which will be bolded within the fic. 
> 
> Basically, this is Dean's sexy audition for James Bond.

You never would have dreamed that when you took a plush, private, gymnastics coaching job, it would end with you on the run for your life.

How did you end up running through a dark forest in the middle of the night, dodging tree branches and spider webs with two hired killers right on your heels? Simple. You’d just witnessed your boss murder someone. That’s right, Jackson Carson, the sweet, single father who’d been nothing but nice to you since the moment he’d hired you to coach his six-year-old daughter, had just shot a man right between the eyes.

You’d never imagined when you’d returned to the house unexpectedly, after finding that your car had a flat tire, that that’s what you would see, but, you had. So, now, you were running for your life and the only place you could think to go was the one place you truly felt safe: your boyfriend, Dean’s.

Luckily for you, he only lived about a mile from the Carsons, but, by the time you got there, your heart still felt like it was going to burst out of its chest. Flinging the door open, you slammed it behind you and quickly turned the deadbolt before spinning around and screaming your boyfriend’s name. “Dean!”

He instantly tore out of his bedroom, clad in just a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, the panic in your voice cutting right through his sleep-filled fog. “Y/N? What is it? What happened?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but all that came out was a hysterical cry, and, within seconds, Dean’s arms were around yours, holding you up as you broke down into his chest. “Hey, hey,” he whispered. “It’s okay, baby. Just breathe. Tell me what happened.”

You tried to take his advice, to stop crying, but you felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. “You’d never believe me, even if I tried.”

He pulled back and gently gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Try me,” he prodded softly, breaking down the last of your defenses.

“I saw…I saw Jackson…” You paused, taking a deep breath. “Dean, he killed someone.”

You expected Dean to deny it, to say that maybe you were just mistaken, but instead, he did something that completely shocked you: he believed you. “Son of a bitch, Y/N. You saw him do it? Did he see you?”

“Did he…wait what?”

His eyes hardened and he swore under his breath. “Did he see you, Y/N?”

“Yes, yes. He saw me, Dean, but I don’t understand. I just told you my boss killed a man. Why aren’t you more surprised?”

Dean shook his head. “There’s no time for that now. Come on, we gotta move.”

Dean pulled away from you and instantly began to bustle around the living room, grabbing anything he could get his hands on: strewn about clothes, his wallet, even the picture frames. Then, he paused, looked right at you, and pulled out his phone. You were about to ask him what in God’s name he was doing when he said something that made your heart fall in your chest.

“This is Special Agent Winchester, badge number 3554. Y/N’s been compromised, so I’m making the call for an immediate extraction. We need a safe house prepped.” He paused for a second to listen into the phone as you tried in vain to catch your breath.

Special Agent Winchester?! No, no. Dean’s a mechanic, not a special agent. This can’t be happening, this can’t be…

“Y/N.” Dean’s voice jarred you out of your spiral, and you looked up to find him holding a small duffel bag. “It’s time to go.”

“What?” you stammered, suddenly regaining your ability to talk in a big way. “No. No way, Dean. We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

He shook his head and grabbed your arm. “Y/N, there’s no time. We gotta go…”

You ripped your arm out of his grasp and stepped back, folding your arms across your chest in the process. “Dean, I just saw my boss murder a man in cold blood, ran for my life from two crazy thugs, and heard my mechanic boyfriend, who I thought I knew everything about, call himself Special Agent Winchester. I’m barely holding onto my sanity as it is, so you better make…the…time.”

Dean stared at you closely for a moment, as if weighing his options, before he finally decided on the right course of action. He stepped towards you, reaching his arms out, the same arms you had once felt so safe in. “Look, Y/N, I never wanted you to find out like this. I was gonna tell you, but I….”

You held up your hand, your heart hardening at the words that seemed to confirm your worst fears: whatever this was, he was involved. “Cut the crap, Winchester. Just tell me the truth.”

Dean seemed to deflate right before your eyes, but he stepped back, giving you your space. “The truth? Fine. I’m not a mechanic. I work for the DEA.” You gasped softly, the sound getting caught in your throat as he continued. “Your boss, Jackson Carson, is an arms dealer, and a pretty notorious one at that, but he’s careful. We couldn’t pin him on anything, so the agency decided to send me undercover. They figured the best way for me to get anything on him would be to get close to someone who had access to him, someone who works for him, someone like…”

“Me,” you finished, your voice a breathless whisper. “You were going to get to him through me.”

He nodded, his eyes falling to the ground, where he stood in silence, giving you the chance to put it all together. “So, this,” you muttered, gesturing between the two of you, “all of this has just been one big lie? The way we met, our relationship, everything?! I was just some damn cover?!”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he looked up at you in horror. “Y/N, no. No! It was all real, baby…”

You shook your head, tears gathering in your eyes, and held out your hand. “Don’t you ‘baby’ me, Dean, don’t you dare. Not now.”

He closed his mouth, waiting a moment before trying again, speaking softly this time. “Y/N, I know you don’t believe this right now, but what we have, it’s real. It wasn’t supposed to be, believe me, and it sure as hell made things a whole lot more complicated, but what I feel for you is real. Hell, Y/N, I lov…”

“Don’t,” you breathed weakly. “Don’t.”

He nodded again, his body straightening and his eyes hardening, closing him off from you, before he held up the duffel bag again. “Look, I know you hate me right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We still need to leave. I have a safe house waiting.”

You snorted. “Ha! If you think I’m going anywhere with you, you really are crazy. I think I’ll take my chances with the psycho killers.”

You turned and started to walk towards the door, but Dean was in front of you before you could even take a step, his broad chest blocking your path. He moved in close, pinning you to the spot with his intense gaze. “You aren’t going anywhere, Y/N. These guys, they’re not playing around. They’re professionals, and they won’t stop until they’ve found you and killed you. There’s nowhere you can hide, nowhere you will be safe, except with me. So, I’m sorry, but I don’t give a damn if you want to come or not, you’re coming. Now.”

Your jaw dropped at his impassioned speech, and all you could do was nod as he shoved the duffel bag into your hand. “Good,” he growled, taking your free hand and pulling you towards the door. “The safe house is a good 12 hours away by car, but we’re taking a train. We’ll be there by morning.”

“What,” you scoffed, “you couldn’t find anything closer?”

He looked down at you and gave you a half smile. “We didn’t exactly get a lot of notice, bab…Y/N,” he finished, catching himself. You felt your heart clench at his dropped endearment, but you shrugged it off. It was your choice to distance yourself, and you knew that you couldn’t back down now. How could you ever trust him again? No, after this was all over, you knew what you needed to do: leave Dean Winchester for good.

By the time you got on the train, it was nearing midnight, and you were exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally. You were so tired that you didn’t even object when Dean told you there was only one room left on the full train that you’d have to share. It was a nice sized room for such a small space, with two bunk beds, so you were willing to let it go and put up with it, especially since it was only for the night.

After all, you had much bigger problems than sharing a room with your soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, and those problems all came rushing back to the forefront of your mind as soon as you and Dean were safely in the room and he pulled out a short, brown wig.

“You need to wear this.”

You laughed, the exhaustion making you practically delirious. “What? No! I’m not putting that on.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, Y/N. What if they find us? You want them to recognize you?”

You put your hands on your hips and narrowed the eyes. “Okay, how about you put on the ugly, uncomfortable-looking wig and I’ll go in disguise as a full-of-himself, lying DEA agent?”

Dean scowled. “Y/N, I swear, if you don’t stop fighting me on every damn decision, I’ll…”

“You’ll what, Dean?” you challenged. “You’ll break my heart? No wait, you already did that.”

Dean sighed hard, and dropped his head, tiredly rubbing circles over his eyes. “Y/N, please, I’m just trying to keep you alive. Please stop fighting me, at least for tonight. You can hate me all you want tomorrow once you’re safe.”

You bit your lip, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. He was right. You knew he was right, but that didn’t make any of this any easier. “Fine. Give me the damn wig.”

He threw it to you and you bent over, gathering your hair in a bun before pulling it on, standing up, and straightening it. “God, I was right. This is uncomfortable.”

You looked up when you heard a deep laugh to find Dean smiling widely. “What?” you groaned. “Is it that bad?”

“No, no,” he insisted, unable to hold back his laughter. “Really, you look good.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“No, really!” he reiterated. “Did I ever tell you I have a thing for brunettes?”

“Shut up,” you shot back, but you couldn’t help but smile as you turned away to adjust the wig. You could feel Dean walking behind you, but before you could turn back to him, the train lurched, throwing you to the ground.

You screamed Dean’s name at the same moment he screamed yours, but he couldn’t catch you as you fell, hitting your knee on the bed as you went down. You muttered an expletive and tried to right yourself just as the power went out, plunging the room into darkness.

“Dean?” you cried out, hoping he was still nearby but unable to see anything in the pitch blackness.

“Yeah, baby, I’m right here,” he whispered, and, in a second, his hands were on you, strong and sure, pulling you towards him. “You okay? Are you hurt?”

You could hear the worry and underlying panic in his voice, and it made all your romantic feelings come rushing back, overwhelming your senses. No matter how hard you tried to hate him, you just couldn’t flip a switch on love. “I’m good,” you whispered, matching his soft tone. “I’m assuming that wasn’t supposed to happen?”

“Nope,” he muttered, “but, it could just be an engine problem. No reason to panic.” But, despite his calming words, you could feel his arms tighten around you, and you knew he was worried.

“What should we do?”

“Nothing. We stay here until the lights come back on and then I’ll check it out. I’m sure it’s just some incompetent conductor who pressed the wrong button or something.”

As if on cue, the train groaned again and the emergency lights flicked on, casting the room in a pale light, allowing you to finally see Dean, who was just inches from you, holding you in his lap on the middle of the floor. “See?” he whispered, with a soft smile. “Nothing to worry about.”

You nodded slowly as your eyes fell to his lips, so close you could practically touch them. He licked them once, causing a soft moan to fall from your lips, something you knew he had heard, because his whole body tightened around yours with a groan. “Y/N…”

“Dean…” you breathed, letting your body take the lead as you leaned in, your face now so close you could feel the burn of his scruff. But, before you could kiss him, a loud crash sounded, and the door banged open, startling you out of the moment.

You tried to look over, see what had made the noise, but Dean was up in a flash, lifting you and pushing you behind him as he pulled out a pearl-handled gun you hadn’t even known he had. “Dean? What…”

“Thugs,” he whispered to you, silencing you immediately. You held onto the back of his flannel, staring at the criss-crossed checkered lines and trying your best not to start screaming as he walked you back until the bed was at your back and he was at your front, blocking you entirely.

Then, he just waited.

It seemed like ages that the two of you stood there, but you knew it had had only been seconds before a very familiar-looking, giant of a man burst through the open door, launching himself with a wild scream at Dean, who easily blocked his punched. He responded with a swift kick to the giant’s gut that had him on the floor, despite his size advantage.

It took the attacker a moment, but he got right back up, charging at Dean until two quick shots stopped him in his tracks. You screamed and shut your eyes, trying to block out the sight, until you felt Dean’s warm hand on yours. “Come on. We gotta get out of here. Keep your eyes shut. I don’t want you to see him.”

You nodded, latching onto the calm, steady timbre of his voice as he took your hand and guided you out of the room. As soon as you were clear, he told you it was safe to open your eyes, never once dropping your hand.

You found yourself in the hallway outside your room, the emergency lights still pulsing steadily, making it seem much eerier than it had 20 minutes ago. Looking around, you felt dread creeping up your spine. There had been two men chasing you, so where was the other one? “Dean,” you whispered, prodding his back with your free hand, “he wasn’t alone.”

“I know, babe.” He nodded, confirming that he understood. “Just stay close, ‘k? I’m gonna get you outta here.”

He began to move slowly and steadily down the hallway, keeping you pinned to his side. You were almost to the door leading to the outside of the train when a rough hand yanked you back, ripping you away from Dean before you even had a chance to scream. One arm wrapped around your waist, and the other around your neck, harshly gripping you against a solid, unyielding body.

“Dean!” you screamed, but he was already turning, pistol raised, a deadly look on his face that would have scared you if it hadn’t been directed at the man currently holding you hostage.

“Let her go,” he said, his voice even and firm, free of any panic or hesitation.

“Not gonna happen, pretty boy,” the man behind you said. As he spoke, his hot breath ghosted over your ear, sending a repulsed shiver down your spine. “This little lady saw something she shouldn’t have. Now, we’re gonna deal with her, and then we’re gonna deal with you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he growled, his stance never wavering. “Let her go and maybe I won’t put a bullet between your eyes, you son of a bitch.”

“I think you’re the one who should be worried about that, Agent,” a smooth, confident voice announced from just behind Dean just as Jackson Carson pressed the barrel of a gun to the back of his head. “Now, I think it’s about time you took your gun off my man, don’t you?”

Dean sighed heavily before he raised his gun into the air so Jackson could grab it. “Smart choice, Dean.”

He tossed the gun to the lackey holding you, who caught it with one hand while keeping his other arm anchored around your waist.

“You know, Carson,” Dean said, his hands still in the air, “I knew you were scum, but I didn’t think you were the type to kill a man with your daughter still in the house. That’s low, even for you.”

“Yeah? Well, I didn’t think you were the type to fall for your mark either, Dean, so I guess we were both wrong. Tell me something though- was the sex worth it?”

“You shut your mouth, you bastard,” Dean yelled, earning a sharp kick to the back of his legs that sent him to the floor with a cry of pain.

“Dean!” you screamed, struggling against your captor’s hold to get to him. “Leave him alone! I’m the one you want, not him.”

Jackson looked up, his eyes connecting with yours, a sadistic smile on his face. “Awe, looks like the bitch fell in love with you too. How sweet.” He looked down at Dean and grinned. “That’ll make it even better when I kill her right in front of your eyes.”

Dean roared, a primal scream of anger tearing from his lips as he surged up, knocking Jackson off balance and the gun right out of his hands. It skittered across the floor, but Dean grabbed it and fired at the man holding you.

The bullet hit him right between the eyes, the impact knocking you both backwards onto the ground. You screamed and scurried away from him, watching as Jackson raced towards Dean, grabbed his arms, and wrestled him to the ground. They turned over and over, both of them throwing punches in an effort to gain control the gun. You watched in horror, as Jackson got the gun away from Dean, aiming it straight at his heart, and you did the only thing you could do- you grabbed Dean’s gun from where it laid next to you and fired.

Your aim was true, the shot sailing straight through the air and right into Jackson’s chest, making him stumble and look down in shock at the growing bloodstain. He looked up at you again, raising his eyebrows and opening his mouth in surprise, before collapsing, his eyes shutting for the last time.

With shaking hands, you scooted backwards, staring horrified at the gun in your hands, while Dean crawled over to you and quickly took it, pulling you into his arms. “It’s okay, baby, it’s over. It’s over.”

You let yourself fall into his arms, barely even hearing his words as the images of blood and the sounds of screams echoed in your mind.

Dean got you off the train as fast as he could and “commandeered” a police vehicle to drive you back to your apartment. Now that the danger was over, the safe house wasn’t necessary. You didn’t speak the entire ride, numbly staring out the window, not even seeing the passing scenery you were staring at or Dean’s worried looks your direction.

Once you got home, you headed straight for the bathroom and shut the door, leaving Dean behind. He followed you, knocking a few times, but you ignored him, starting the shower and not even bothering to remove your clothes before you stepped in.

You had to get this blood off of you, to get clean. That was the only thing that mattered.

You stood there, under the stream of water, until long after it had run cold, but you didn’t notice, too caught up in your own mind to even hear Dean come into the bathroom. It was only when he climbed in behind you and wrapped his still-clothed arms around your body that you let yourself break down, the tears falling freely. He let you cry, just holding you, his forehead pressed against your hair until you were spent.

Once you were done crying, he gently reached around you and turned off the water, lifting you up and cradling your wet body against his. He carried you into the bedroom and placed you down on the bed. You let him softly strip off your clothes and change you into a t-shirt and pair of sleep shorts, never once speaking and him never once forcing it.

It wasn’t until he’d also stripped off his wet clothes and climbed into the bed next to you, drawing you back into his arms, content to just hold you and rub circles up and down your back, that you were ready to talk, the sound coming out as barely a whisper that only Dean could hear. “I’m a killer.”

“No,” Dean avowed forcefully. “You are the furthest thing from a killer I have ever seen, Y/N. They were the killers. You did what you had to do. You saved me. That doesn’t make you a killer.”

“It doesn’t?” you whispered.

“No, it doesn’t, and I know it doesn’t seem like that right now, but it will. Just give it time. Besides, none of this is your fault, it’s mine.”

You drew back, looking up at him, his deep green eyes meeting yours. “What are you talking about?”

“You never would have been in danger if I had done my damn job, but instead I let myself get distracted.” He paused and brought a hand up to your cheek. “By you. Y/N, falling in love with you was never part of the plan. I lost my focus, and I put you in danger. All of this, all of it, is my fault.”

“Dean, it’s not your fault. It wasn’t your fault my boss was a killer arms dealer, and it wasn’t your fault we fell in love.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “We?”

“Yes, we, Dean. I tried to deny it, I tried to turn it off, but I can’t. I love you. Even if you lied to me about who you are, I don’t care. I can’t stop loving you.”

A grin of pure joy spread over his face, shining right into your heart. “Really?”

“Yes, really, Dean,” you said with a laugh. “But, if you ever lie to me again, I will do something not very nice to your Impala and you better believe…”

Dean cut you off with his lips on yours, melting you into him, your hands wrapping around his neck and up into his hair. He growled into your mouth and pulled you against him, before pulling back and burying his face into your neck. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you proclaimed, your voice already breathless. “Now and forever.”


End file.
